Jim James performing at a Gram Parsons tribute, 2004On February 20th 2004 The Independent published an interview with Jim James, written by Alexia Loundras, the original interview can be found here.
Keywords: live music, band chronology, Jim James, songwriting, the sound
"Last year feels like it was 30 years ago," says Jim James, My Morning Jacket's unassuming frontman. He shrugs. "But it could just as well have been yesterday. I don't have any concept of time any more. Every day we're in a new city, a new state, a new country. This day is already over for me; I'm already three years in the future now."
In this frazzled state you would expect James to bear a passing resemblance to the wailing figure in Edvard Munch's The Scream. The band have flown straight in from their Kentucky hometown, Louisville, after a mini-tour of America. But far from wearing the accessories of jetlag (pallid skin, dark circles under the eyes), the singer looks decidedly fresh-faced. His long, red-blond tresses - tamed in a loose ponytail - and unkempt beard frame his face like a furry halo. James shakes his head. "Looks are deceiving," he chuckles and, settling into a cosy pub, promptly orders mineral water.
Touring is a physically demanding process for My Morning Jacket. Later the same night, they play a set to a capacity crowd of 2,000-plus who are spellbound by their swirling, psychedelic sound. It's an intense experience as they unleash huge swathes of melody on the room.
"Every night's like playing a game of football - we play music so rough," says James, almost breathless at the thought. "And because we don't have any roadies, we're always loading gear!" But James doesn't mean to complain. Constantly heaving about heavy equipment and enduring 15-hour stints crammed into a tiny tour van doesn't sound like much fun, and yet, he insists, it is. What's more he's positively thankful for it. "I count my lucky stars every night - I'm so grateful because I never thought we'd get anywhere at all."
The past 15 months have shot past in a blur. The band released their first album in the US since 1999, but until now their output has been small-scale, independent records. It wasn't until late 2002 and the release of their UK debut, "Sweatbees EP" - a gorgeous morsel of Americana-style melancholy - that My Morning Jacket's reputation filtered across the Atlantic. The British release of their first two albums, The Tennessee Fire and At Dawn duly followed at the start of 2003. In the US the band signed a long-overdue international record deal with RCA before setting about recording their third album - last September's It Still Moves.
It Still Moves is a gem - an epic yet intimate affair that slides from sparkling mariachi-tinged guitar pop to dirty, grinding rock; from thundering blues to soothing alt-country. Recorded in a disused grain silo, it tells bitter-sweet stories of drifting souls and broken hearts.
As far as James is concerned, It Still Moves is only the icing on a lovingly made, multi-tiered cake that has taken five years to construct. He is justifiably proud of all My Morning Jacket's achievements, but they did not come easily. And for some in the band, the increased touring pressures that followed the success of It Still Moves were too much to bear. Just last month, My Morning Jacket's heart was ripped out as the keyboard player Danny Cash, and James's cousin, the guitarist Johnny Quaid, called it a day. Their departure sent the group into a crisis.
"I really didn't know what I was going to do," says James. This was not the first instance of a band member leaving - My Morning Jacket are already on their third drummer, Patrick Hallahan, but this time it was different. Quaid - along with the bass player, Two-Tone Tommy - was a founder member and the albums were recorded on his grandparent's farm. Without him, James came to question the essence of the band. "I didn't know if I should split up the group or carry it on as a three-piece," he says. "I didn't know if there was any life left in us at all."
Fortunately fate - in the form of some of James's friends - intervened. Two musicians turned up on recommendation to try out for the vacant slots. At first James was sceptical, but as they started to play all his doubts were replaced with gratitude. The novelty, apparently, has yet to wear off. "They knew all the songs," he says, still a little incredulous. "It turned out to be better than I had ever hoped."
With Bo Koster (keyboards) and Carl Broemel (guitar) now being woven into the close-knit fabric of the band, James is philosophical about the departures and admits My Morning Jacket are now in a much more positive place. But despite his renewed faith, he too feels uncomfortable with some of the demands now being made of him. "I just wish there was a way for people to not know who I was," he says. "I don't want to be this persona. I don't want people to like me, I just want people to like my music."
James spent his adolescence skulking around on the peripheries of his social scene with the other misfits, and still shies away from the limelight. Given the choice, he says he would rather cloak himself in the innocence of childhood than wear a designer sneer. He refers to the emotional frankness of his inspiration, The Muppets, as "the pinnacle of human achievement", and speaks of their creator, Jim Henson, with the same reverence that others might reserve for Jimi Hendrix. In fact, if it weren't for Kurt Cobain - another reluctant star - James might never have picked up a guitar at all. "Nirvana proved you could just be some guy in a T-shirt and your music could mean something to everybody," he says. "They didn't care who laughed at them or thought they were cool or uncool. They weren't doing anything because they wanted to be popular - what they were doing was honest, brutally honest."
There's no doubting James's passion. "Music is limitless," he says, clearly thrilled to be no longer talking about himself. "With music, you create something out of nothing, that no one has ever done before. By recording it, you capture it, but that song is never the same again - it always changes."
"We've got a good sound now, but it's always going to keep changing. And I want it to keep changing," he continues. "I love making music; I love how it feels to sit there with a guitar. I'm lucky enough to be able to do this now and I'm going to try to do it for as long as I can. But in this weird life, you just never know what's going to happen." James leans back in his seat and shrugs before a wide mischievous smile takes over his face. "And that's what makes life just so very exciting."
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